"Tajar!" Alam leapt over Clarisai's body with axe held high. Again the word filled his mind unbidden. "Fang!" he tried to shout and again it came out strange. Blue flame flared on the axe, shattering the darkness. Noldorae lifted his shield.

Too slow!

Alam landed on the shield. His blow went wide. Noldorae staggered back under the weight of Alam's body. Alam slid off the shield and collapsed to the ground.

Alam desperately rolled over. Noldorae's heavy mace smashed into the ground. Missed. Alam struggled to his feet, but he was off balance. The mace was being brought back for a killing blow.

Suddenly an arrow flew past Alam's head. Noldorae's head snapped back. The arrow protruded from his neck. He gurgled and clutched at his neck while looking past Alam in shock. Alam risked a quick glance over his shoulder. Gretch the Hunter threw his bow down and sprinted towards them. He raised his greatsword high, ready to strike.

Alam threw himself sideways to avoid the blow. Noldorae fumbled weakly to raise his shield. It was no use. The power of Gretch's blow was as a mallet hitting tin. Flesh, bone, armour shattered beneath it. Noldorae fell dead with the blade embedded in him. Gretch let go of his weapon without stopping. He sprinted towards towards the open doorway and kicked the sputtering torch that lay on the ground. It spun away leaving a twisting trail of light before landing in sparks and dying.

Darkness reclaimed the chamber. Alam gripped the axe tightly and then realised that the faintest blue flame still dance along its edge. He willed it to grow, and it did.

Sudden, excruciating pain coursed through him. His muscles bunched, his limbs locked. He screamed in agony though his mouth would not open. Unable to move, out of balance, unable to stop himself, he fell forward. Lights flashed in his vision as his head connected with the stone floor.

"He is mine, Emerek," said Gretch's voice from the darkness. "The barbarian, the box, and the girl are all mine."

There was no reply. Alam's pain grew.

Don't black out... don't black out...

"You are a coward, Emerek," Gretch sneered. The words came from a different location. He had moved. "If you can not see me you can not bewitch me. Instead you cower in the shadows. It is pointless for I am the greatest hunter of this age. I can hear you breathe. It is enough for me."

Again there was no reply. Alam's vision began to swim. The faint blue light from his axe grew fuzzy and blotched.

"I knew of your cowardice," Gretch spoke again from yet another location. "So I am not surprised that you hide in the dark while your knights fight for you. Yet there is one thing I am uncertain of. Are you stupid, or are you a traitor? Are you so stupid that you have not figured out that the barbarian you are killing is our Liege's son? Or do you know it and kill him anyway, seeing him as an obstacle between you and the throne?"

That got Alam's attention. It cut through the pain.

"Our Liege's son"? It can not be.

"You lie!" Emerek spat.

"Stupid it is," Gretch replied. "Our Liege's favorite slave was with child twenty one years ago. I have counted the years. You may not remember, for you would have been a child at the time. Our Liege blessed the unborn child with his power, and eagerly awaited its birth. But the slave disappeared before the baby was born. When our Liege found her the child was gone. Every attempt to find it failed."

"I know the story. It means nothing!"

Feeling was gone from Alam's legs. His vision was black.

"Consider this," Gretch's voice sounded closer to the open doorway. "He is the right age; he is a foundling; his features do not look like the rest of the barbarians; he looks to my eyes like a mixture of slave and noble. But there is one other trait that is to me conclusive even though it is nebulous - this barbarian carries the blessing by our Liege."

"Ridiculous," Emerek said dismissively.

"He is the only prey of mine that has ever avoided capture."

"You are getting old," countered Emerek.

"He possesses an axe of legendary quality."

"It means nothing."

"Just moments ago he spoke a word from the ancient tongue."

"Anyone can learn a word!"

"And finally, most importantly, he slew a sorcerer single-handedly. When was the last time any ordinary man, much less a young barbarian, has killed one of your order?"

Suddenly an orb of light flared from Emerek's hand. Alam dimly saw it illuminated the corridor. Gretch had crept within ten paces of the sorcerer. He sprang forward. One of Emerek's hands was clenched in a fist pointing at Alam. Emerek splayed his other hand and quickly waved it in front of himself. Gretch was thrown backwards as if he were a cushion. He slid along the floor. Before he could regain his feet Emerek pointed two fingers at Gretch and snatched his hand into a fist.

Gretch grunted at the agony but did not cry out.

"Poor fallen Gretch. Too old, too slow, too stupid. Now I have the honour of bringing our Liege the barbarian's head, the Evara's, and yours. I will be second only to our Liege in influence and when he grows weaker, when he does not expect, I will strike and the throne..."

The voices grew distant to Alam. He was floating away. Dying was a release. The blackness of death had a peacefulness to it. There was no need to fight it. Shaleh was gone. Tajar was dead. So was Frost. Much better to leave pain behind and join the darkness.

The darkness...

What is that black shroud in my mind?

It seems to be living inside me.

He tried to focus his mind on it. He took a deep breath, concentrating his will.

Get out!

For a brief moment feeling returned to his arms and legs. With it so did the pain. He tried to ignore it.

Get out of me!

His hearing returned. His limbs were on fire.

"What?" Emerek muttered.

Get out!

Alam concentrated on moving his foot. It responded. He moved his legs.

"Stay!" shouted Emerek.

Get out!

The darkness in front of his eyes fled. He dimly saw Emerek illumined by the floating orb of light. With painful slowness Alam brought his legs up under his torso.

"Die!" screamed Emerek.

Agony, pure and powerful, consumed him. His breath was ripped from his lungs.

"Get out." Alam whispered as he pushed himself to his knees. He raised his head. Emerek stood wide eyed in the glow of the floating magical light above him. His hands were clenched in fists - one pointed at Gretch and the other towards Alam. Gretch lay convulsing on the ground.

"It is not possible," Emerek whimpered.

Alam stood up. His legs were weak. He lurched unsteadily forward.

"You are a wolf," Alam said. "When the wolf comes you kill it, for a wolf will never be anything other than a killer."

Emerek pointed a finger at Alam and flicked it around and up. Alam felt the magic trying to force his limbs together.

"Get out!" The magic slipped off of him.

Alam staggered into a limping run. Emerek fled. He was faster than Alam. Within moments he would be swallowed by the darkness in the corridor.

"Yah!" Alam threw the axe. Its flame died as it left his hand. It spiraled through the air and struck Emerek in the back. He was propelled forward. He shrieked and hit the ground. The blade was in deep. Emerek's last breath whispered in the corridor. The orb of light winked out.

Total darkness engulfed Alam.

In the cold blackness Alam's rage left him. The immensity of his loss suddenly swelled in him leaving him tired and frightened.

"Tajar!" he called out. "Are you alright?"

Silence.

He suddenly felt sick with fear and worry.

"Frost?"

No reply.

He shuffled forward until he found Emerek's body. He retrieved the axe and spoke its name to conjure a flame to see by. He staggered past Gretch's prone form to Tajar's side and knelt beside him. He placed his ear next to Tajar's mouth. There was a faint hiss of breath.

"Thank the heavens," he muttered to himself. "Tajar? Can you hear me?"

A faint grunt came as a reply.

"Will he live?" asked a female voice behind him. Alam turned to see Clarisai propped up on her elbows. The rose in her hand was pure white.

"Of course he will," said Alam with more bravado than he believed.

She smiled sympathetically at him. "You saved me. Let me save him." Their eyes locked.

"Can you do that?" Alam asked.

"Yes. At a price."

"What price? What do you want?"

"You misunderstand me," she replied. "There must always be balance. If one is to be healed, another must be harmed."

Before Alam could open his mouth Gretch's voice sounded. "Let him die in peace. It is a noble death."

"Shut up!" Alam roared. "Give me his pain." Alam helped Clarisai reach Tajar's broken body. She placed one hand on Tajar's chest and the other on Alam's. She closed her eyes. Alam felt his very life being drained: like a punctured water skin. The feeling of his ribs cracking one by one made him grunt and then roar. When she removed her hands from their chests Alam sunk to his elbows while Tajar opened his eyes.

"How do you feel?" Clarisai asked.

"Like I have been walked over by a horse," slurred Tajar.

"Me too," said Alam.

Tajar suddenly pushed himself up grunting. "Frost?" He called out.

Alam pointed to where her body lay.

"No." Tajar whispered.

He and Alam crawled painfully over to her. A widening pool of blood shone in the flickering blue light of the axe. They crawled through it to her side. Tajar laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Frost?"

He gently shook her. It was useless. Her eyes stared vacantly ahead. Specks of coughed up blood mired the skin around her open mouth. Tears came rushing to Alam's eyes. Tajar tenderly kissed her forehead, her cheek, her lip. He closed her eyes and held her lifeless hands. Sobs shook his shoulders.

"Weep not for her barbarian," Gretch said as he rose to a sitting position. "She was a vicious serpent."

"What is he doing alive?" growled Tajar.

"Shut your mouth Gretch!" Alam snapped. "If you are going to kill us do it quickly. I have lost the will to fight."

"Speak for yourself!" said Tajar.

"I will not kill you now that I know who you are," Gretch said to Alam.

"Shut your mouth!" Alam shouted.

"What is he talking about?" asked Tajar.

"Unlike you, Alam is more than a simple, ignorant barbarian," Gretch answered. "He is the heir of Morcham, the sole child of Liege Marext. And," Gretch paused, "he is the second son of my mother, the slave that was queen. Alam and I are brothers."

END

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Thus ends the first book of what I am provisionally calling The Foundling Series.

Alam's story continues in the second book "Abased - the Exiled Warrior", which is currently being written. As Alam uncovers his past, and discovers his future, his adventure is interwoven with Shaleh and Nurlan's struggle with Chummera, Liege Marext's plans to gain Clarisai's power, and the nebulous promise that Sapphire forced Alam and Tajar to make when she gave them their weapons.

Thank you for your support. The comments and votes have been a real source of joy to me. If you have enjoyed this story (if you have made it this far I am assuming you have) then please consider sharing it with others.

-Y. V. Qualls